


Possessed

by Stedler2 (k9cat)



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Demonic Possession, M/M, One Shot, Religious Themes, cybertronian religion, exorcist like rituals, i just don't know what to tag, inspired by the scene in one of the hobit movies where the king is possessed, its not really that bad at all, yes that is where this came from
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-28
Updated: 2016-06-28
Packaged: 2018-07-18 18:49:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7326220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/k9cat/pseuds/Stedler2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This Truly was one of the worst cases he has had to perform on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possessed

**Author's Note:**

> Hello All,  
> Another story for you, I don't have a beta, so if there are any grammar mistakes I really appreciate if you would let me know, and for anything in general if it is glaringly obvious that its not correct in spelling, and to fix tags and all sort of that fun stuff.  
> I don't own The Transformers, that goes to Hasbro and TakaraTomy. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> (6/29/16, just caught some spelling and a missing sentence, do not fret)

Possessed

[What War? AU]

 

 

Never had the Iaconian Priest dealt with such a case as this one as he reflected back, finishing writing the report and going over the file for the demon purging he performed, waiting for the mech, Jazz to wake up in medical.

                At the start when they first came to him, they had seemed a curious couple. First impressions were the black and white Polyhexian curled up on the white and black Praxian lap. He had smiled at the scene when he walked into the meeting room; only here in Iacon would such mecha find each other. There love obviously blessed by Primus, and by his will that they came together in union.

                 At first description from Prowl told of a relatively minor demon, common attributes that almost all of them had. It would have been easy, it itself not very strong and easy to pull out, But Jazz didn’t want to talk about it fearing that if he did, _he_ would come out. Prowl described more, habits, patterns, little tells and attributes that befit a more older creature, one that would take a lot more preparing, and planning.

                The common traits were there, irritation, anger, injury, and threat were things that helped lead the demon to have control over Jazz. A unique one was separation from Prowl would have Jazz fighting the demon for control. The other side was that when Jazz was content, happy, and comfortable was when the demon struggled to have any control over Jazz, and with Prowl, Jazz barley felt the demons presence.

                They continued their sessions, discussing many things, and finally reaching the point of talking about what it was like and what happened when Ricochet, as the demon called itself, took control over Jazz.  Jazz himself could not recall anything that happened in the time period of when he was shunted from control, it was a blank and empty spot in his memory. But Prowl knew, and he was justifiably right to be searching for help, and they were prepared to cast out the creature.

~*~

                The Priest led the two deeper into the temple than anybot would usually have wanted to. This was the final step, the prayers and blessings were all said, they were cleansed and caste over with protection spells and glyphs painted onto wrists to keep the demon from using any powers it welded. He led them through one of the many memorized paths through the sparkling complex to a short little hallway. The rooms were once a teaching place for the little sparks before they renovated and added new ones higher up in the building closer to the new entrance. The end of the hall leads to a simple door. Inside it was a small room painted and decorated in image of Primus’ light overcoming the Unmakers darkness. A plain padded berth to the left and across to the right was a chair and empty writing desk pushed against the wall. It was perfect for extracting the demon out of a mecha.

                Jazz and Prowl sat down on the berth, and he gave them a few breems while he pulled out the materials he needed and placed the chair to face the berth. Quick words of promise and that everything will be better were quietly said. Jittery hands were stilled as they were taken hold of and the Polyhexian pressed there for helms together. The Praxian gave a quick kiss that had the other smiling slightly. He saw how there optics locked and hung on each other. Truly Blessed.

                A knock on the door broke the moment and had all three of them looking to the source. A minor priest had arrived for Prowl. They let go of each other and a final look was exchanged before the Praxian left till later. Jazz sat back more on the berth with his legs crossed. The Priest sat in the chair with a datapad and stylus in hand. The soft click of the recorder turning on was loud in the small room being placed on the writing desk beside priest. Now it was a waiting game till the demon came out.

It was quiet, and since they did not know each other on anything more than a professional level, there fields were kept to themselves. Both alone in the small room together. That was a pet peeve of Jazz’s, a thing that sowed discontent in him. He was also separated from Prowl. A joor slowly passed before Jazz started to show signs that something was bugging him. Twitching as if somebot was poking him, annoying him. He quickly wrote down the time and observed the time and observations before speaking.

“Is Ricochet- ah, bugging you at the moment?”

Jazz’s helm snapped up from the dropped position it was in, visor training in on the priest. A moment of not seeing passed before Jazz flinched as if somebot made out to hit him. “Uh, yah, he is. An he’s sayin’ things.” Jazz said slowly, doing his best to speak coherently.

“What sort of, things is he saying?”

“Stuff that ain’t true, nevah can be true.” He replied quietly, looking to hopefully believe his own words, convince himself that Ricochets words were false.

“What are the false words?”

“That Prowl-” Jazz’s voice ground a little bit, static producing as he tried to stop saying something that he didn’t want to be said. The Polyhexian drew into himself, knees pulling up, vents starting to slightly hitch.

“Prowl what?” The Priest pressed on, irritating and annoying him.

“That Prowler don’t love me no more. Drop me off an’ left meh here ‘cause ahm crazy. Words in mah head that aren’t mine. That ain’t true though, he wouldn’t do this if he ain’t love meh...” He trailed off, shaking his head in denial at something being said before his face contorted in a snarl and he shouted “Shut Up!” Swiping at something that was in front of him before he curled up more, pressing his back against the wall and his hands shot up to cover his audios. The Priest shorthanded his reactions, making sure the recorder still had battery and was recording still.

This part could be seen as a personality disorder, bi polar, two minds fighting for one frame. It went further though. Jazz curled even more in to himself. Trembling armor plates rattling in distress and muttering quickly in his Polyhexian dialect. Making note to translate after they are finished. Even though there fields were not touching he could sense the rapid change of pain and fear invading. Jazz started to shake his helm back and forth muttering the same monosyllable word over and over. He could see his hands clenching over his audios every time he flinched as if wanting to hit right back. Jazz’s venting increased drastically, fans skipping as he tried to pull in enough cool air. The visor he was wearing flickered before going black, and all movements shut down suddenly, frame frozen in positon. A silent breem passed before the frame ran through a boot up cycle. From frozen to fluid the frame untensed. The visor lit a golden red colour with dark blackish green showing where the royal blue optics was beneath. The form rolled off the berth into a long stretch moving the frame as if it was its own design.

“That was to easy.” It chuckled to itself looking around, the voice deeper, lower, vibrating the floor beneath it. Edges became sharp and an aura of dark seeped in around the room chilling it. The demon paused, turning around to face the Priest. “So you are this so called extractor, funny, I remember them being... more powerful than you feel.” The demon said, an insane look growing in his non optics. The familiar voice he knew Jazz had been long gone in the way the demon spoke. It had ages of experience in living through other mecha.

“I am no more nor no less than any before me, and you will be sent back to where you belong away from this plain of living Ricochet.”

“Oh, such big words, he told you my name did he- yes he did, I see it. Fragger. You know little Jazzy is so scared. So easy to manipulate and make him think things he does not want to. I know everything he thinks and I give him thoughts. I really like it in this host. It works really well for me, good quality, I like it.” He mentioned trailing up a digit around his pelvic area, face morphing to a lewd look.

 “You will leave I will make sure of it. But first I do have a few questions for you.”

“Questions? I love questions!” The Demon exclaimed. “I really like it when I get to ask and when the mecha are wrong, I get to devour their sparks. I want to ask questions.”

“Sorry no, I am asking the questions, if you answer all my questions, I'll let you ask some okay?”

Ricochet gave a frown of displeasure but didn't act out.

“What is your view of Prowl?”

“Prowl?” The designation rolled off of the Demons tongue like it was poisoning it, head tilted in a thinking manner. “Oh- that little thing Jazzy frags. I don't know, he's annoying. I can't get out when he's around. Too much light and stuff, blegh. Though he does frag good, good enough that I can feel the pleasure when they frag each other. Though they haven't in a while. Oh! Is he here? I'd love to make him scream by my deeds instead of Jazzy's. Poison him; taint him to serve darks pleasure.” The hand that was near his pelvic area started wandering around, dipping into seams and fingers scraping plating. A crooked smile rising and a lost look forming in the non-optics, other hand starting toward other areas around the rest of the frame.

“I'm sorry to say though; he's not here, so you won't be able to do that. You asked a question, one less at the end now.” The Priest's voice broke the demons thoughts, making the helm turn sharply back on to him pouting. The hands fell away from where it was trailing around the frame.

“Not here, that's a pity. He would have been a good frag. And who cares about the questions?” Ricochet brushed off flippantly. “What about you? I bet you would be a good frag. Do they still practice having priests be celibate, untouched? If so even better.” The demon wandered closer, armor flaring and touching the frame in a vulgar manner once again.

“No, that practice was long ago ruled out, I am very happily bonded under Primus' hand and a loving family to show for it.”

Ricochet hissed and recoiled at the mention of the Creators name. “Well even if, I'd never frag a priest, you just don't last at all to do anything good.”

“Do you know of any others of your kind are out?”

“Any of my kind... I suppose you mean night children.”

“No, I mean demons like you, are there any other demons wandering around?”

“I actually do not know, I've only been here and enjoying the torment. Plus if I do come across any others I dismiss them back to the ether world. You know, take their energy and survival of the strongest and all that stuff. Plus I get more room for my chaos to spread.”

The Priest frowned and scribbled on the data pad in his lap before looking back to Ricochet halfway across the room. “What do you want to do here?”

“What do I want to do here? Why chaos of course, I just said it. It's what I live for and why I like Jazzy so much,” Ricochet stretched again armor flaring. The small shadows around them grew and the Priest detected the air chilling a degree or two around him. “He's naturally chaotic, not chaotic like me, but in the way his spark is -oh I never felt a spark pull to me like this before. It was like he was made for me to use him.”

“That, sadly for you is not true. Since Jazz is for Prowl as much as Prowl is for Jazz, and that comes from Primus himself.”

Ricochet sneered and hissed again. “You know what, I’ll taint you. And lead me out of here so I can taint the rest of the sparks in this building and I’ll have my own legion to do my bidding. That sounds perfect.” The demon’s deep chuckle filling the small room and looked to the frames wrist, easily rubbing away the painted glyph there. “You really think a little paint would stop me? Ha! I am all powerful; feeding off Jazzes’ spark till it becomes dark and one of my own slaves. So easy, and you, so weak.” The demon stepped closer to the still seated priest, shadows filling the room behind the demon, a dark void that sucked all heat out of the room. Manic smile pinning the priest in place, trapping him there as the demon got close enough. It chuckled again at the nervous look the priest had as he trailed sharp digits up his chest plating wandering closer till over his spark, loving the sharp venting of a mech trying not to panic but failing. A crooked smile took hold on the demons face as he pushed his palm flat in the center of the Priests plating, unable to wait for the screams of a spark being tainted.

Only for the crooked smile to fall as nothing happened, looking confused. The Priest then smirked himself, his fear an act, turning up his wrists showing the same inhibiting glyphs on his wrists.

“Paint is paint yes, but power is power. No power can move into me.” The Priest quickly snatched up the frames wrist and triggered the port panel to slide back, plugging in his cord, immediately isolating the dark code that was weaving its way around Jazz’s coding. The Priest stood up pushing the demon back, his field flaring and pulsing out with the feeling of light, dismissing the looming darkness, unveiling his aura of light.

“Under all laws of the Lord Creator he has vested power in me to remove you from our plain of living. You have said to plan discord and chaos in our world of ordered light.” The Priest kept walking slowly cornering it, grip strong around the wrist as it tried to yank it out to get away. He could see the panic in the non-optics as the light casted off the darkness surrounding Ricochet and the stolen frame. True panic showed across the face plates as the demon hit the wall stepping back. There was nowhere to go that would not get any closer to the light than he already was.

“The First 13 shall help me banish you as they helped Primus banish the Unmaker into eternal sleep and held back darkness. As they did I shall do to remove darkness from our world. Be gone Ricochet, be cast off to eternal sleep with your master.”

The demon was cornered and in a physical form trapped on this plane, he could not escape the priest as he took the final step to be close. Hand pressed against the stolen chassis as the last line was spoken, deleting the isolated coding from Jazz’s databanks. The feeling of light burned across the demon, free hand trying to claw and pry away the hands trapping him and pushing against him as a non-mecha scream rang out and echoed and bounced around the small room. The golden red visor flickered before flashing blue then dark. Helm lolled and the frame went lax without control as the real mecha Jazz fell into stasis. The Priest caught the sagging frame before it fell.

~*~

Jazz woke to the sound of many murmuring voices and hard white light above him. The only thing keeping him from thinking that he was going to the Well was the warmth and weight of a mecha lying beside him and an arm laid protectively over his midsection.

Refreshing his visor he looked around. To his left was a medic taping away on a datapad connected to the berth under him. The Priest and a couple more medics were off to the side. But to his right, was a recharging Prowl, feeling his loves spark strong and steady.

“Oh, good, you are awake,” The medic that had paused tapping spoke. “How are you feeling Jazz?”

A static moan escaped his vocaliser as he tried to voice how much his frame hurt and ached.

The medic took that as a reply. “That's okay if you can't say anything right now. It's going to be a few joors till we make sure everything is stable and in propped order before we let you go. Okay?”

Jazz nodded his helm as much as he could without making it hurt any more. He looked to Prowl and then back to the medic keenly watching for anything wrong. He raised a brow ridge and tilted his helm toward the still recharging Praxian.

The medic easily took the cue to answer the mimed question. “Prowl wanted to be beside you, he had earlier clearly expressed his concern for you and your well fair after this. Also a strong spark near a spark that had an extraction actually helps with the recovery. You are a very lucky mecha for having a love this devoted. I am finished here, if you need anything press this buzzer here, either I or my assistants will come to help you. Other than that, I will let you rest.”

Jazz nodded again, a low hum sounded as he turned into his loves embrace. The world a clear static around him as he slipped into recharge, processor clear of anything but his own thoughts.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Comments and kudos are welcomed.


End file.
